


we will inherit the earth

by butidontreallycare



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jurassic Park Fusion, Alternate Universe - Jurassic World Fusion, Dinosaurs, Dubious Science, F/F, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, and i love klance so i wanted to do this, i am a jurassic park stan first and a human second, if this story progresses which idk if it will bc college and depression, jurassic park/jurassic world au, keith is a dinosaur wrangler, lance is a dinosaur doctor, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-11 22:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17455595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butidontreallycare/pseuds/butidontreallycare
Summary: There is an island off the coast of Costa Rica that has become Keith's home. There, he has friends, a cool ass job, a cabin a few minutes away from the beach. It’s all a few shades away from being a dream.The dinosaurs - and the dinosaurs’ doctor - are just a perk. Really.Enter a conspiracy, because this is Keith's life after all, and well, uh, life finds a way.or, the jurassic park/world au that i wanted and i hope people can enjoy





	1. hold on to your butts

The silence that exists on the back porch of Peachside is serene in a way that Keith considers sacred. The noise from the party he’s just managed to escape is washed out by the sound of ocean surf crashing over sand. A lowly buzz from the insects hiding in the grass brushes over Keith like the night is whispering hello and he is - content. It helps that he has probably the nicest view on the goddamn planet; the sky, untouched by city light, awash with a million stars like freckles over darkness and the inky ocean underneath it, a reflection of the heavens that sways with the current. There’s the remnants of the bonfire from earlier just a few yards away, still smoldering softly against the night. 

Among the few things Keith thinks he should be grateful for, this view is somewhere at the top. At least, it’s definitely an upgrade from glaringly dry sand and nothing for as far as the eye could see. He never thought he’d enjoy the ocean so much. 

“Hey,” comes from behind him, cutting through the silence like ripples, followed by the creaking sound of the screen door swinging open. Keith knows it’s Shiro before the voice registers in his mind; nobody else would be so willing to follow him out into loneliness. Or - nobody else used to be. Things are different now. 

“How were the dimorphodons?” Keith asks as he slides over, making room for Shiro to plop down beside him and smiling up at him when he groans like an old man as he lowers himself down. Shiro’s still in his uniform, though some of the top buttons have been undone, and his smile is tired but warm. “And your bones? Do you think it’s time for a hip replacement? Retirement?”

“Hardy-har.” Shiro deadpans, using the fingers of his flesh hand to flick Keith in the ear and his prosthetic to comb through his silver hair. “This is all for the aesthetic, Keith. The Look.” At Keith’s unimpressed glare, Shiro breaks into giggles that deviate from everything he is physically; a tall, muscular man with severe scars and serious eyes. As Shiro flashes him a stupidly pleased smile, Keith finds himself returning it without consciously deciding to. It must have something to do with the hard won glint of happiness in his brother’s eyes, the one that was mostly absent just a few years prior. 

Yeah, things are really different now.

Shiro sighs happily, then, leaning back on his hands to stare out at the view that had encapsulated Keith. “They keep dislodging their trackers when they fight, the dimorphodons. We’re thinking we’ll just have to insert the trackers instead, but that’ll require a dozen separate operations. Think Lance would be up for it?” 

Though he resists it, Keith feels heat blossom in his cheeks. It’s too dark for Shiro to see it, but he smiles all teasing and smug like he can. Being the stubborn ass that he is, though, means that Keith ignores the warmth of his face and his brother’s stupid smirk and pretends that nothing means anything. “Lance loves messing with anything that has too many teeth. Too bad for you, he’s going to be pretty busy for the foreseeable future, so Griffin will have to help you out instead.”

“How could I forget?” Shiro says, excitedly nudging Keith’s shoulder with his own. “You’re about to be a dad!” 

“Fuck off.” Keith groans, dropping his head into his hands in mostly faux annoyance. “I’m so tired of these jokes. Pidge gave me a ‘number one dad’ mug yesterday. Adam keeps texting me stock photos of babies that he photoshopped me into, and if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to block him.” 

“If you block him, he’ll just print the pictures out and bring them to you personally. ” Shiro points out unhelpfully, then breaks into a shit eating grin that is entirely unbecoming of Isla Nublar’s Head of Security and Safety Operations. “Do it.”

Keith’s laughter is less put upon than he tries to make it, but that’s okay. He shakes his head, aware of the complete mess it is, and presses into Shiro’s side. The two of them sitting on some rickety old porch steps, shrouded in nighttime and separate from everyone else is so reminiscent of their beginnings, Keith aches with it. 

“I hope they accept me.” Keith says after a while. He feels Shiro take a deep breath, and holds up a hand before the larger man can open his mouth. “I know, I know. I’ve spent more than a hundred hours with them, they know my voice and my scent. Everything is going to work out. Lance has told me so a dozen times.” 

“And Lance is the dinosaur whisperer, so he knows what he’s talking about.” Shiro has no reason to make that pointed expression, no reason at all, not that Keith pays it much attention. He’d known from the beginning what his job with the park would entail. The velociraptors were the reason he was hired, after all, and when the Holts had cleared the study with HQ, Keith had known he would one day be in charge of raising and training his own pack of deadly prehistoric creatures. When Juno started nesting nearly two weeks earlier, Keith had realized that day was quickly approaching. 

So, distantly, he’d known what was to come, yet Keith still found himself completely blindsided by the email he received from Coran that morning, informing him that the eggs were expected to hatch the following evening. Meaning, tomorrow. Meaning, in less than twenty-four hours. 

Keith nods, let’s his hair fall over his face and tries not to worry. Tries to keep his hands from fidgeting by forcing them into stillness, tries to hold his legs steady out in front of him and keep his mind from racing forward. It doesn’t work; Keith feels like a livewire. “But still. What if - and, you gotta listen to me now, what if they just don’t like me? What if they’ve been sitting there, incubating or whatever else they do inside their eggs, and they think I’m ridiculous. Raptors are insanely intelligent, Shiro, and I’m insanely not. They can probably hear the incompetence in the way I breathe!” 

Shiro laughs. He bends over his folded knees and lets out these stupid guffaws that startle the herons down the beach into fleeing. The happy sound rolls with the waves and Keith is somehow simultaneously soothed and irritated. And regretting drinking whatever monstrosity Pidge had forced into his hands the second he walked into her apartment. He hadn’t intended to explode like this.

“Okay.” Shiro settles eventually with an apologetic grin. He smooths down his dark blue work pants and straightens up so he’s looking Keith in the eye. “First of all, that was ridiculous. You are very competent, Keith.You were hired because of how competent you are. I’ve never seen anyone handle the raptors the way you do - they actually listen to you! That’s amazing and really scary. Secondly, I’m not sure if raptors are actually capable of liking anyone, but if they were going to start it would be with you. I mean, Juno doesn’t hate you.”

“That doesn’t count. Juno is the sweetest velociraptor on the planet.” Keith defends adamantly, waving his hands around as if that would help Shiro see his point. “ She doesn’t hate anybody!” He stops, cocks his head to side to think about it because he has actually seen the way Juno snarls at just about everyone. Then, almost petutanly, “Well, it’s not personal. Juno’s instincts make her aggressive - she’s not consciously hating anyone.” 

“False!” Shiro counters, his dark eyes gleaming. “Juno hates me. She’d tear my throat out if I got too close. She lets you touch her, so her babies are going to love you.” At that, Shiro shrugs his shoulders with an ease that undoes some of Keith’s worries. It’s hard to think you’re incompetent when your brother believes the opposite so easily and without doubt. 

Still, Keith is stubborn in his bones and can think of several reasons as to why his brother should reconsider his stance on Keith’s capability. It’s not that he actively wants to tear himself down, no, because Keith has worked hard, has always worked hard, and he knows this. He’s just got too much nervous energy buzzing right under his skin, and seeing that it’s too dark to go around throwing knives, lightly arguing with Shiro is the best way to expel the nervous thrumming. 

Before he can jump back into his distraction, Keith’s argument finds itself stalling on his tongue at the sound of another voice approaching them, a very particular voice that has Keith’s mind going on full alert. 

“Did I hear someone talking about Juno? My bestest baby-making velociraptor?” Lance has two drinks in his hands when he kicks the porch door open, and passes them over to Keith and Shiro seamlessly with the casual elegance he’s never without. He’s slightly disheveled, his clothes a little rumpled and his hair like a nest, but his happy smile irradiates.

Keith wants to bask in it, just a little. It’s a weird thought, but Lance is like a small, less deadly sun. Everywhere he goes, light and warmth follow and Keith is powerless to stay away. He’d tried in the beginning, during his first few months working on the island. It was easier then, partially because Lance could barely stand him and partially because Keith could barely stand Lance. Now they knew each other, they shared friends and were about to share raptors. Things were different.

Shiro pats Lance’s bare leg as he greets them, and Keith’s eyes find themselves glued to the point of contact. Lance’s skin is very tan, a golden brown that glows in the sunlight but goes milky in the starlight. His club shorts are grey and they’re paired with a black muscle shirt that has Keith’s throat drying up. The colors of his casual clothing make the blue of his eyes even more breathtaking, breaking through the night with their electric color. Keith blinks and takes a swig from his cup- water, he notes belatedly - before tuning back into the conversation at hand. 

“It’ll be weird, being away from my grandchildren.” Shiro is saying, which bewilders Keith for a good few seconds before he remembers the context. Then, he just wants to punch Shiro a little bit. “I’m going to miss the most pivotal moments of their lives. And Keith? He never calls, never writes. I won’t even know their names because he’ll forget to tell me.”

Lance’s delighted peals of laughter are loud and his smile is wide and bright and of the face scrunching kind that makes his nose look soft. Besides him, Shiro’s dimples are on display and his eyes are shining with warmth. Keith can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at their laughing at his expense when they both look so happy. He grumbles, but he doesn’t really mean it. 

“Don’t worry, Shiro-man.” Lance chuckles, resting his lean torso against the porch railing. “I’ll trade you updates if you send me authentic Japanese ramen. Or the recipe for some - I can get Hunk to help me with it.” 

It startles Keith a little bit, to suddenly be reminded that Shiro is going to be on a whole other continent in just a few weeks. He’s not an angsty, lonely teenager anymore, doesn’t need Shiro’s constant presence to keep him in check or from getting lost in another downward spiral. Now, Keith is a (relatively) healthy, young man who can keep himself in check, thank you very much. None of that means he won’t miss seeing his brother everyday, being able to tease him alongside Adam, being hugged by him on those late nights when Keith needs it. But it’s only for three weeks, and if Adam can take being more than ten thousand miles away from his husband, Keith will be able to handle being away from his brother. 

“I’d do that anyways.” Shiro smiles, friendly and open because he is kinder than anyone has any right to be. Every single person on this island is at least a little in love with Shiro, Keith is willing to bet on it. Lance is definitely one of them, because he gets that surprised-but-happy-and-a-little-embarrassed look on his face and quickly diverts his attention to Keith. 

“Ready to co-parent a pack of baby velociraptors?” He asks as if the concept of it all isn’t completely absurd. Which does a lot to convince Keith that it isn’t. Lance has a flare for the dramatic, no one can deny it, but Keith has never seen anyone care about the dinosaurs the way Lance does. It’s alarming sometimes, what Lance is willing to do to help his ‘prehistoric children,’ but it’s endearing, too. If everyone on the island is in love with Shiro, then everyone also has a crush on Lance. 

“Don’t think so, but I’m willing to try it anyways.” Keith answers honestly after a moment, and is awarded with an amused eye roll from Shiro and a hand on the shoulder from Lance. 

Lance, his wide, ocean eyes dripping with mirth. “We got this, Kogane. If we fuck up, at least we’ll fuck up together.” 

With another groan, Keith dislodges Lance’s hand so that Lance stumbles where he stands. He shoots Keith a glare once he steadies himself inches away from Keith’s face. “Asshole.”

“I’m the asshole?” Keith pushes at Lance’s legs, too gentle to be genuinely angry. “That wasn’t half as reassuring as you think it was. We have a duty to raise these raptors into responsible and capable adults, Lance. This is serious.”

“I was being serious!” Lance exclaims. He plops down on the step just above Keith and Shiro, brows furrowed but eyes alight. “We’re in this together. I’ve been reading,” besides him, Shiro’s face struggles to contain his amusement, “and all the reliable Mommy Blogs say that to be good parents, we need to operate as a unit, a team. So, we either fuck up together or we kick parenting in the ass together.” 

“Oh.” Keith says, floored. He blinks, and then feels something akin to strength bloom somewhere inside him. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll make a good team.”

“We will?” Lance asks, surprise making his eyes even wider for a split second until his expression bursts into something sure and happy. “Hell yeah we will! We’re going to be the best team. We’re going to raise the fuck out of those raptors and then NatGeo is going to dedicate an issue to us.” 

Lance’s smile is contagious, and Keith doesn’t bother fighting the smaller one that spills out of him. His shirt is stained in three separate places, he’s pretty sure he has dried mud in his hair, and he’s in desperate need of a shower, but Keith is happy. His brother is laughing, his shoulders finally unburdened and free, more peaceful than Keith has ever seen him. And Lance is smiling at Keith, something Keith would have sworn was impossible just a few months ago. They’re friends. 

Life, somehow, is good.

❧❧❧

Keith had never planned on becoming a dinosaur wrangler. He hadn't planned on becoming much of anything, really. 

For the first fourteen years of Keith’s life, living to see the next day was his only goal. Being herded from foster home to foster home, one rarely ever better than the last, even that sometimes felt impossible. Still, he dragged himself through it with grit teeth and spite burning in his blood. The world did its best to beat him down every chance it got, but Keith was never the kind to make things easy. He got out of bed every morning just to sneer at the sun. He listened to the emptiness beating alongside his heart and matched his stride to its rhythm. 

Some days, he continued simply because everything else was trying to make him stop.

He made a world of trouble for himself, which, in retrospect, was the only possible outcome when Keith made it a point to let his anger fuel him. He made no friends, had no substantial goals, never dared to dream - he had nothing. It sucked, but it was just how things were and Keith didn’t know enough to imagine anything different.

Then, Shiro. There Keith was, sitting in the back of the classroom, always apart and alone, and then in came this older boy that was everything Keith had never hoped for. He’d been with the Logans then, a family of three that never included Keith. They were nice people, happily married and with a little tot that Keith babysat a fair amount of times (and those are still some of his fondest memories because little Evie was the sweetest baby and when she smiled, it broke a piece of Keith’s heart in that painful, good way). They never hurt Keith, but they never tried to make him happy either. He was mostly just there, in their house as an observer of events and that was somehow worse than being yelled at or threatened. The anger and the hurt had him act out during class, demanding to be seen and dealt with the only way he knew how. That school year, Keith got into almost a dozen fights with other kids until he was placed into a correctionary classroom and they all learned to keep away. 

“That’s Kogane.” His classmates would say when they thought Keith couldn’t hear. “He has more problems than he has parents.”

Shiro was sent to mentor him and the rest of his delinquent class. At the time, he was just a cool older kid, a high school sophomore whose accomplishments made him shiny and unreachable, like most other things thirteen year old Keith was denied. He wanted nothing to do with Shiro, nothing at all. He would watch from a distance as Shiro talked with the other kids and _listened_ and be satisfied. But Shiro saw something in Keith, something besides the fire that burned everything it touched, Keith included. Something worth a chance. 

He bothered Keith for weeks, kept checking up on him during odd hours of the school day (the high school was unfortunately just down the street from Keith’s middle school), listened enthusiastically to whatever Keith felt like sharing, and never told him he should shut up and be grateful for what he had, because at least it was something and wasn’t something better than nothing? It kept like that for months and then, suddenly they were friends. Shiro remembered Keith’s birthday. Keith saved his cookies to give to Shiro after school. They walked home together. Shiro taught him how to properly take a punch. Keith showed him the knife his mother left him. Shiro helped Keith through a panic attack, and then through several more. Keith attended Shiro’s soccer games and brought him Gatorades. And then, when the Logans decided that Keith wasn’t a good fit for their home, Shiro’s family took him in.

Years later, Keith graduated from high school as a legal member of the Shiroganes. There’s a picture of him wearing his cap and gown, beaming at the camera with his diploma in one hand and his adoption papers in the other. There are tear tracks on his face, but no one ever points that out. 

Even then, Keith didn’t have a plan. His life was astronomically better than what it used to be, but he still couldn’t imagine a future. So, he decided to follow Shiro, who had yet to steer him wrong, and enlist. He was good, according to every one of his instructors, but he had an ‘attitude problem.’ Keith always maintained that it was Iverson just being a dick, and most people who knew him were inclined to agree, but because of Iverson, Keith was never deployed. Instead, he was assigned as an instructor for other recruits, teaching them hand to hand combat and weapon handling. 

For a while, it was good. The strict structure of the military did a lot to cool Keith down. He learned to channel his aggression and overall anger into physical activity and that shaped him into someone .. softer and more approachable. He made friends - Axca who could literally kill him, Kolivan who refused to put up with anyone’s shit, Ulaz who always had a snack to spare - and finally mastered his mother’s knife. When Shiro went MIA, Keith had people he could lean back on to keep himself from crumbling, people that would help him (and Adam, because he was one of Keith’s friends now, too) get through those few weeks before Shiro was returned to the States. 

Keith decided, on his own, to apply for an early discharge. He didn’t enjoy being forced to stay put when his brother was missing, especially not with Iverson being literal scum and blaming Shiro for his own fate. Since he’d never been eligible for deployment, it was a little easier to get everything in order to leave. Shiro would be honorably discharged due to his injuries, and Adam had never been in the military. It took Shiro years to find some semblance of balance, and Keith was never far away in case Shiro needed him (or he needed Shiro). 

When Shiro was approached by InGen and offered a job at the park, Keith was ready to see him off. Adam already worked there, though his job then was all about outreach so he was rarely on the island, which was good because they’d married a few months before - Keith was their collective best man. Keith was planning to stay in the city, keep his job at the auto shop and at the dojo, and to live like that until something new and exciting came along. 

It took InGen five months after hiring Shiro to offer Keith a job. 

The thing is, Keith’s childhood happened in a world where John Hammond’s islands were still dreams, and he had never been allowed any of those. He knew better now, sure, but he was still hesitant. He’d never told anyone how he lied to a librarian about losing a book, even paid the fee just so he could keep the pictures of the dinosaurs somewhere close. The book was still at home, in one of the boxes full of his old stuff. 

This was a job Keith would love, or at least enjoy doing much more than he enjoyed working on broken cars, and he enjoyed that quite a bit. The fact that he would once again get to work with his brother and Adam, get to meet their coworkers that he’d heard so much about was a huge bonus. Still, it took him two whole weeks to think it over, to make sure he was making the right choice for himself. 

Not once in his time on the island has he doubted his decision.

❧❧❧

In the morning, Isla Nublar is paradise. The sunrays spill into Keith’s cabin and kiss all over his face until he wakes with a few choice grumbles. He knows without looking at the clock on his bedside, that his alarm is due to go off in a few minutes. He feels a little like Pavlov’s dog, conditioned to wake up earlier than his alarm because he hates the sound of it blaring. 

“G’morning Kosmo.” Keith yawns, stretching as he sits up and the border collie attacks him with cuddles. The dog yips happily when Keith scritches under his chin.“You slept well, hmm?”

Keith can’t say the same for himself. He got back to his cabin early in the morning, and, after a glance at the damned clock , realizes he got less than five hours of sleep. 

“Time to load up on the caffeine.” He mutters under his breath as he untangles himself from his blankets and into the adjacent bathroom. Fortunately, Keith from yesterday evening had the hindsight to lay out his clothes and work things before he left for Pidge’s because he knew himself. There had been way too many times Keith walked around with inside-out underwear because he rushed through getting ready. 

His and Kosmo’s morning routine is another thing Keith cherishes quietly but firmly. 

Kosmo twines himself between Keith’s legs as soon as he walks out of the bathroom, freshly showered and minty breathed. Keith does his best not to trip on their way to the kitchen, and lets Kosmo out to play in the morning sun while he prepares himself a small breakfast. Today, it’s eggs and toast and an espresso from the coffee machine Adam got him for Christmas some years ago. Keith prepares Kosmo his morning meal, which the dog devours as soon as he’s brought back indoors and keeps him distracted long enough for Keith to get dressed and ready to head out. He unlocks the doggy door on his way out, and makes sure the gate around the cabin, the one he made so Kosmo could have more room to run around is latched before turning towards the beach. 

In the morning, the ocean and the sky are almost the same colors. Towards the east, where the sun is slowly rising, the sky is a million different shades of orange and pink and blue, but further down towards the west end of the island, the sky is a deep light blue reflected by the ocean below. Up the beach, closer to Keith, the green trees are explosive in their contrast with the sea and the sky and the sun. Everything is washed in the soft, warm light of the early morning, and Keith lets it settle over him before trucking through the sand and hopping into his work jeep. 

Once buckled, with the aircon going on full blast to cancel out the intense heat of the island, Keith pulls out his phone and scrolls quickly through his emails and messages to make sure of his schedule of the day. He’s about to set it down to start his drive to the raptor enclosement when a message from Lance comes in.

_From: lance (=^ェ^=) 6:03 am  
rise nd shine cowboy!!! its almst time to meet our bbs!!!!! Aaaaaa!!!!!_

Keith rolls his eyes at Lance’s antics, unbiddenly amused at the many enthusiastic exclamation marks. Before he can type out a response, he receives a sudden slew of messages. 

_Group Message: rptor squad (ง’̀-‘́)ง_

_Hunky ☼: YO U GUYS!!!Q THE EGG S ARE HATCHINF!!!!!_

_Hunky ☼: WHY ARENT U HERE YET??????_

_pinchge (;¬_¬): i jsjt wok ip_

_pinchge (;¬_¬): todsy is ny day odf_

_pinchge (;¬_¬): fickkoff_

_lance (=^ェ^=): KAJDFLKSJFD HUNK!!!! dnt let thm out pls, im almst thre_

_Hunky ☼: .,, Lance. U are an actual doctor ,, u know that’s not how it works_

_lance (=^ェ^=): K E I T H!! ur plumb ass btr be up nd on ur way!!!!_

_Keith: Plumb ass?_

_Keith: If you stop assaulting my phone with messages, I can be there in five minutes._

With a flutter of equal nerves and excitement in his chest, Keith tosses his phone onto the passenger seat and peels out of the driveway, the tires throwing up sand in his wake. Usually, Keith likes to enjoy the scenery on his way to work. The trees are nice and tall and with the jeep’s top off, he could look up and see the sun spilling through the gaps in the trees. He could drive close to the treeline and let the low hanging branches brush over the top of his head, shaking loose a few flower petals that spill over him gently. Instead, as he speeds past his regular routine, Keith only has eyes for the road. 

A few miles away, with a sharp snap, a single crack spiderwebs down a single pale green egg.


	2. you crazy son of a bitch, you did it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith makes port and some running lizards break out of their shells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me a minute but uh, here u go. i hope it is not complete trash. i'm pretty happy with this chapter lol but i have no beta so sorry for any mistakes i might have made. pls enjoy!! also, disclaimer .. i know almost nothing about dinosaur science. i am simply a human science major trying to do her best.

❧❧❧

When Keith took his first steps onto Isla Nublar, they were with undisguised childlike wonder. The park was closed, like it was every first Monday of the month when the shifts were being rotated out, and the sun was just beginning to conquer the sky. Keith was the only one stepping off the ferry and onto the docks that morning, the first wave of fresh employees not expected for another hour. A part of him wanted to abandon his bags where they sat at his heels and run off towards the park, to explore every attraction and gawp at the dinosaurs he could already hear in the distance. The line of employees waiting to leave, done with their shifts and ready to get off the island, reminded Keith to settle down; he would get to see everything in due time.

At the moment, Keith took in everything his eyes could reach, breathing the ocean air deep into his lungs. The island was very much an island, more so than Keith found he had expected. On the dock with the beach right at his back, he could see … everything. A few feet from the end of the dock was the reception area, a large bamboo shack with welcoming laurels and a picture of John Hammond mounted on the wall behind the desk. Just behind the shack, the monorail station that led right to the park was slowly filling with workers ready to go home for the few weeks before their next shift. Starting at the end of the beach, trees sprouted out of the dirt and up, higher and greener than anything Keith had ever seen, dotted with brilliant flowers in colors that almost hurt his eyes. Further out, miles from where Keith stood, and tucked between the trees were buildings, their steel glinting in the sunlight. That was the main park, or at least the tops of it, a hidden jewel amongst the green. Beyond that, on the opposite end of the island, were mountains that seemed to brush the few clouds hanging low in the sky, so vivid with color Keith struggled to believe it. 

He felt like he’d stepped into a movie, like there should be some cheesy, tropical song playing over a montage of him exploring the park and sipping brightly colored cocktails. Instead, there was a soft murmur of conversation from the people around him and the much louder sounds of the wind winding through the trees and the surf crashing into the rocks. This, natural and alive with something Keith could only describe as warm, was better than any music. 

“Keith!”

And there was Shiro, calling Keith’s attention away from the scenery and to the quickly approaching figure that Keith did not immediately recognize as his brother. This man, though the same shape and size, with the same sharp jaw and soft eyes and heavy brow, was a few shades darker than Keith remembered Shiro being. Most alarmingly, his hair was a sudden, startling silver. Earlier, when Keith had been waiting to sprint off the ferry, his eyes had skimmed over this head of silver hair, assuming it belonged to an older man. Now, he wanted to laugh.

“Shiro?” Keith cautioned, face scrunched in amused bewilderment. “What the fuck happened to your hair?” 

“Good to see you too, Keith.” Shiro said, forgoing answering Keith’s question in favor of wrapping his younger brother into a hug. Keith stepped into it eagerly, heart achingly soft as he melted into the embrace; he hadn’t seen his brother in months and while he lived those months well and content, he missed Shiro something fierce. They video chatted weekly but that couldn’t compare to having him there, within arm’s reach. Stepping into his brother’s arms, Keith felt like he’d just come home. 

“You got darker.” Keith muttered into Shiro’s shoulder as the world slotted into place. “Almost didn’t recognize you.” 

Shiro pulled away with a chuckle, face flushed in the heat of the early morning. The fact that it was not yet six and still hotter than anything Keith had ever known was alarming. Shiro must have read it on his face, because his chuckle quickly dissolved into the patented Shiro Giggle. 

“Oh, Keith.” He managed through lips stretched in a happy smile. “You’re going to burn so bad. In a few days, you’ll be all red and no one will be able to touch you.” 

“I brought sunblock.” Keith defended himself with a huff. As if he planned to show Shiro, Keith scooped up his bags only for Shiro to pull them out of his hands, hooking the duffel bag over his shoulder and pulling the heavier luggage to his sides. Keith quickly looped his arms through the straps of his backpack to keep it away from Shiro.

“It doesn’t matter how much sunscreen you put on. We’re in January, right in the middle of the dry season. It gets so hot that you sweat it all off by noon.” Shiro said, motioning with a dip of his chin for the two of them to make their way down the dock. For that, Keith was grateful. His shirt (black, because he refused to let Mother Nature disrupt his aesthetic) was beginning to stick to his skin uncomfortably.

“Luckily,” Shiro continued, waving hello as they passed the long line of people, “Allura pulled some strings and got you that cabin you wanted. It’s closer to the raptor enclosure than Peachside and Plumfront, the dormitories where most of the other employees stay, but not too close to break island protocol. It was just recently remodeled, so you can expect great aircon service. The ones in the dorms are prone to breaking because they’re as old as the original park.” 

“Allura?” Keith asked, a little flustered by the mounds of incoming information. “She’s the boss, right? Didn’t you say the cabin was her father's? Is it really okay that I’m using it?”

Shiro flashed the lady at the front desk his datapad, which she looked over briskly, nodded, and then waved them through, passed the freshly polished desk towards the monorail and off the beach. “Don’t worry. Allura said it would have just wasted away otherwise.” 

Assuaged, Keith stopped underneath an air vent so that the cool air enveloped him. While his eyes slipped shut, he remembered, “Shiro, you never answered my question. What happened to your hair? We had a video call just a few days ago and it wasn’t like this.”

“Right.” Shiro sounded as close to embarrassed as a shameless man like him could sound; Keith was intrigued. He popped a single eye open, peeking at the soft flush on his brother’s face. “The thing is, I was drunk.”

Keith laughed, delighted by Shiro’s embarrassment and eager to hear whatever bullshit he was about to spout. Drunk!Shiro was the mastermind behind the majority of Shiro’s most embarrassing moments, and Keith loved him. Shiro knew this, and ducked his head. It was a nice moment, Keith thought as he watched Shiro’s ears slowly turn red. They may have spent more than six months apart, but they’d come together again like it was no time at all. 

“First, you need to know that it was Adam’s fault - his and Allura’s.” Shiro began, just as the monorail pulled into the station. He motioned for Keith to wait until the monorail unloaded, letting a few dozen workers spill out into the station before heading in. Unable to stopper the excitement he felt brimming inside of him, Keith made his way through the length of the train and up to the glass front. 

He sat down in the row closest to the glass, stretching his legs out into a little spot of sunshine creeping past the foliage. He couldn’t see much of anything besides green leaves and pockets of bright sunlight, but they were a ways out from the park entrance so he doubted he was missing much. Keith wanted a front row seat for when they approached the real magic of the island. 

Shiro stretched himself out over the length of the row behind Keith, having dropped Keith’s bags at the mouth of the front section of the train. The two of them were the only ones on board and they took advantage of the fact, making themselves comfortable before Keith asked Shiro to continue his story. 

“Just - don’t laugh, okay. I feel pretty stupid about it already.” Shiro warned with a halfhearted frown. He knew that in the end, Keith would laugh his damn head off. Keith knew it too, and thusly made no promises. 

“So, we were on the beach a few days ago, having our monthly Employees Get To Complain About Corporate and Customers Bonfire. Most of us were wasted; that was Pidge’s fault. She works with security and she’s a literal demon spawn - she makes the worst slash the best mixes I’ve ever had and they will fuck you up. That was a warning, in case I wasn’t clear enough.

“Anyways, someone decided to have a drinking competition - probably Lance, because that’s just how he is - and I made the bad decision to try and keep up with Adam.” Keith, at that, almost physically face palmed. Instead, he gave his best why-are-you-actually-stupid look, folding his arms across his chest to distract himself from the very strong desire to laugh at his brother’s incredulity because the both of them knew just how much of a lightweight Shiro was. “I know, I know. I don’t remember the rest of that night, and everyone is reluctant to tell me anything except the fact that I lost and my punishment was for Allura to dye my hair whatever color she saw fit. The only color she had on hand, of course, was silver. I don’t really regret it, though. It’s a nice look.” 

“You’re lucky Allura didn’t decide to go blonde.” Keith pointed out, knowing full well that Allura was a ‘silver haired goddess,’ as documented in one of the emails Shiro had sent Keith over the course of the past several months. “Do you remember? Back in high school when you dyed your hair blonde and ended up looking like an off-brand, Japanese version of Fred from _Scooby-Doo_.” 

“Keith.” Shiro whined. He hid his face in the crook of his arms, and kicked his leg in the general direction of Keith’s laughter. “Let me live.” 

“Sorry, Shiro.” Keith shrugged his shoulders, not at all sorry. The trees around the monorail were growing sparser and the sunlight was falling into the train in big, bright chunks, warming every inch of Keith’s body that it touched. “As your legal brother, I just can’t.” 

“You’re the worst.” Shiro muttered, checking the time on his wrist watch. “But I love you anyways, which means I have to tell you that we’re approaching the front gate in, like, ten seconds.” 

With a gasp, Keith threw himself to his feet and scurried to stand directly in front of the glass window. The monorail turned a soft corner and then there it was. It was large, looming over Keith and the whole train, more than thirty feet tall. It opened slowly, as the train approached, with the line of torches on either side flickering wickedly against the day. At the top of the fixture, in great deep blue letters, was the name _Jurassic World_. As they passed through, Keith twisting his head to keep his eyes on the gate for as long as he could manage. Overhead, an automated voice announced, “Welcome to Jurassic World.” 

“It’s the one from the original park, isn’t it?” Keith asked as they were once again plunged into greenery. He turned to Shiro, who had been watching Keith with a fond expression. Keith didn’t bother with feeling embarrassed - this park was one of the first things he let himself dream about. Ever since it was announced and little Keith’s dinosaur-fanatic heart soared straight up into the sky, Keith had wanted to visit. Unfortunately, tickets were expensive and life had this funny way of never going according to Keith’s plan. This moment was a pretty big moment for him. Why should he feel embarrassed? Besides, he knew that Shiro would never make fun of Keith for something like this. 

“It is.” Shiro confirmed. He sat up and scooted to the end of the aisle as the same automated voice announced that they were approaching the station. 

Keith, once again distracted with trying to spot the park, said, “Isn’t that kind of morbid? A lot of people died trying to make the original park happen.” 

“It commemorates all those that were lost.” Shiro answered solemnly. Then, in a more grim tone, “It’s the only thing on this island that does.”

But Keith did not hear him because just then there was a break in the trees and through it, Keith could see tha park. It was a strange mixture of sleek, modern buildings that caught the sunlight and threw it back, and a variety of brown shacks with palm leave shades. It was decently spread out, with a pier dipping into the ocean situated right next to a large arena that Keith figured was the mosasaurus tank, and buildings stacked all the way to the center of the island. There was more Keith couldn’t see, attractions farther out into the island and enclosures hidden beneath the trees. His legs ached to stretch out, to carry him from one end of the island to the other so he could see everything. 

“Holy shit.” Keith gasped under his breath. His palms were pressed flat against the window. “It’s real.” 

“Yeah.” Shiro said as he walked up to stand beside Keith. His voice was similarly filled with amazement, though heavier with something Keith was too distracted to catch. “It is.”

❧❧❧

The sky overhead is still softly pink when Keith comes screeching to a halt outside of the raptor enclosure. He almost snaps the jeep’s keys in half in his rush to turn off the engine and get his ass the hell off. He scrambles for the front door, quickly peeking at his phone to see that he has only two new messages, each from Hunk. And because Hunk is a lot calmer than Lance at the moment, Keith takes this as a sign that he needs to move faster. 

He shouts some semblance of a greeting at Coran and the receptionist as he sails past the security desk and the rest of the front lobby, ducking between the double doors that lead to the labs. The hallways are pretty sparse, too early even for the morning shifts to be going full swing. This is a fortunate thing because Keith would have shoved past anyone in his way. His raptors are hatching; it was not a time for manners. He needed to get through this labyrinth of a building as quickly as he could.

At the end of the last hallway Keith has all but thrown himself down, the entrance to the main lab swings open and out steps Lance. He’s still in his pajamas, Keith thinks, or maybe today is just a sweats and ratty flannel kind of day. His hair is messy, as is usual, but it looks more like the fresh-out-of-bed mess that Keith’s seen in a few of their shared morning meetings. Either way, Lance has a lab coat pulled on and it’s the really cute one with the embroidery around the collar and trailing down the sleeves. The one he only wears on special occasions.

“Keith! My man!” Lance calls, bouncing on the tips of his toes. His smile is nearly searing in its intensity. “Hurry the fuck up! We can’t open the incubator without you!” 

Keith is too busy panting from his mad dash through the building to answer, but he thinks the glare he shoots Lance says enough. When he said he’d get there in five minutes, he meant five minutes. His heart might break out of his chest with how fast it’s racing, but he’s not sure if that itself is because of the sprint he just had or because his raptors are hatching. 

“How are they?” Keith pants. He places a hand over his chest, rubbing firmly at his sternum as if to soothe his heart, and nervously peeks into the lab behind Lance. “Is everything okay?” 

Looping his arms through Keith to hurriedly guide him into the lab and towards the incubator, Lance tells him, “Everything looks good. The shell membranes are thinned enough for the babies to push through and all of their air sacs are within the expected size range. The hatchings are proceeding as they should.” 

Briefly, as they pass a complicated looking contraption that appears vaguely like a washing machine, Keith notes that Lance smells like something sweet. Like magnolias. The thought escapes him, sand through his shaking fingers the second Lance brings the two of them to a stop in front of the incubator. 

Keith has seen this specific piece of ingenuity more than a hundred times over the past three weeks, and yet it still makes him feel like his life is a poorly written piece of science fiction, more so than his brief obsession (at least, brief _hardcore_ obsession) with cryptids. The incubator is an all glass, oven-like chamber tucked away in a corner of the lab. Hunk tried to explain that the glass was made of a special material that, when activated, was able to maintain a certain temperature by manipulating kinetic and light energy - it was all a shooting star over Keith’s head. Which, hey, he never actually went to college, so that’s expected. 

The only part that Keith really understands is that inside the incubator, there is a glorified humidifier that helps the embryos mature healthily, keeping the air sacs at the right size so everything develops the way it should. However the heck it works, Keith appreciates it wholeheartedly. It’s kept all five eggs warm and safe. The best part of the incubator, of course, was that it connected to a bigger chamber in a back room of the lab. There, Keith could be sterilized and let into the room to interact with the eggs, meaning he got to hold them and talk to them and press them into the crook of his neck. The directors of the program required Keith to spend a certain amount of time with the eggs in the later stages of their development, letting the embryos familiarize themselves with his scent and the sound of his voice. Through the course of those hundred plus hours, Keith inadvertently memorized every inch of the eggs. He knows their every feature; Egg Number Three has twelve dark brown flecks over its surface. Egg Number One has a few ridges over its top. Egg Number Five is the largest with these little spots Keith likes to trace over because they form a heart.

And now, as Keith peeks into the incubator with his nose pressed against the glass, he can see that the eggs have cracks. Number Two has shattered pieces of shell at its base, and the tiniest of gaps in its center. Keith is surprised at how tight his throat suddenly feels.

In the reflection of the incubator, Keith is distracted from his unruly emotions by Hunk stepping out from behind his lab table, smiling his honey smile. Lance must see him too, because they turn around as a unit, Keith greeting Hunk and Lance shooting forward to barrage him for new updates from the few minutes he was occupied with Keith.

“Oh boy, Keith.” Hunk greets, moving around Lance and pulling Keith into a quick, gentle hug. “Lance has been losing his mind waiting for you to get here.”

“I have not!” Lance cuts in, indignant. 

“Have too, sweetheart.” Hunk replies, completely unmoved by Lance’s pout. He is a strong man like that. Keith respects him. “Anyways. Now that you’re here, Keith, we can get your gear on and send you into the chamber.” 

Lance’s pout washes away on the crest of Hunk’s news. He rushes over to his lab station and smacks at the keyboards until the screen lights up. Then, he hunches over seriously and begins typing away. It’s easy to forget that Lance is ridiculously good at what he does when he pouts like a child, but seeing him in his element, even when it’s not really his element ( he is a paleo-doctor. Live dinosaurs are his element), strikes a pulse of awe through Keith. It also makes him feel a little awkward, standing in this pristine lab with his cargo pants and leather boots and nothing to do. 

“Here.” Hunk’s voice comes from behind Keith, surprising him enough to flinch. When he turns to face him, Keith finds Hunk holding out an extra lab coat, medical mask and a pair of clogs. “You know what to do.” 

Keith takes the offered items and puts them on quickly. Across the room, Hunk puts in the key commands for the incubator to be moved to the back chamber. Lance, to Hunk’s right, holds up a datapad in a way that means he’s looking at some kind of x-ray scan, puts it down amongst a few other datapads, and then types something into his computer. He isn’t wearing his glasses today so he’s squinting at the screen even though his face is only inches away.

“Ready?” Lance asks without looking away from his work. 

It takes Keith a moment to work out that he’s the one being addressed. “Yeah. Yes, I’m ready.”

Grinning, Lance sends off a message - Keith can tell because of the _woosh_ notification sound - and then all but flat out sprints to the entrance of the back chamber. “‘Lurra knows what’s going on and she’s given us the green light to move forward. Since all the babies have started pipping internally, and some have even managed to get at the external shell, it won’t be long before we have our very own baby raptors! Yay! But, the hatchings can take anywhere between an hour to 6 hours so I hope you’re ready for that. Also, I got a message from James; the eggs that were left with Juno are starting to show signs of hatching as well. I guess a mechanical incubator works just as well as a natural one.”

Lance talks through the process of pulling on his medical mask and preparing the sterilization chamber that separates them from the back room where they can meet the raptors. He presses a big, round blue button to the right of the entrance, and then motions for Keith to pass through. Keith, used to this procedure, finds it calming to step into the very small passage. Lance locks the door behind him, and then Keith counts down from seven in his head to when the chamber activates and the sterilization begins. The room lights up in an eerie blue light, making the visible skin of Keith’s hands look alien. He catches Lance’s eyes through the little porthole every damn door in this lab seems to have and smiles, then realizes it’s obscured by the mask. He doesn’t bother to stop. Today is looking to be a good day. 

Lance blinks at him, dazed, just as the other end of the sterilization chamber swings open. Keith turns around and walks eagerly into the back room where the wiggling raptor eggs are waiting. He doesn’t bother to wait for Lance to get sterilized, but finds he is too nervous of getting close and messing something up so he keeps a foot between him and the eggs. 

The five of them are wiggling intermittently, some more than others. Number Three, the smallest one with jagged cracks across its length, is more eratic than the others. Keith quickly makes a mental note to ask Lance about it. Number Five and Two are the most cracked, with small pieces of shell scattered around them. Four and One are mostly still, but have winding cracks across their shells. 

From all of them, Keith can hear the irregular and bone chilling sounds of scratching accompanied with soft, high pitched sounds he can only call grunts. It’s eerie enough to have goosebumps flaring across his skin. 

It takes Lance another five minutes to work through the sterilization, and then he’s striding into the room with his ridiculously long legs that are ruefully disserviced by those sweats. The noise of his entrance overwhelms the sounds of the dinosaurs hatching, which Keith is grateful for.

“Ready to become parents?” Lance asks, his eyes glowing over his mask. He stops besides Keith and immediately begins tapping away at the controls of the incubator, pulling up several complicated looking charts and graphs and readings that Keith only recognizes vaguely because of the many hours he spent preparing for this very moment with Lance. 

With a soft smile that no one can see, Keith replies, “Absolutely not.” 

Lance laughs loudly, throwing his head back and clapping a hand over Keith’s shoulder. While Keith isn’t required to wear gloves when interacting with the raptors, Lance is. Keith is their handler, meaning the raptors need to know Keith’s pure scent so they can come to trust it. Lance is their primary doctor and usually handles the more deadlier creatures - velociraptors are included in this category - when they are under anesthesia. Still, he’s spent a good amount of time around the eggs, and will spend a lot of time checking over them during their first few months to make sure they’re maturing well. Keith is confident that the raptors will trust Lance as much as they will trust him. 

The trouble is, there is still some part of Keith that’s convinced the raptors will hate him. It has him feeling a little short of queasy. 

“That is not the spirit, but I can work with it.” Lance says, tone light. “I mean, it’s good that you’re aware of how difficult this process is going to be. And these are deadly prehistoric creatures. We know a lot more about them than we used to, but, like, the whole reason we’re doing this is because we don’t know enough. They’re nothing like human children. Which, those little monsters are still terrifying but they rarely ever kill other living creatures. _Pet Semetary_ aside, we are in for a ride.”

As usual, Keith feels a little bit of whiplash. “ _Pet Semetary_? That movie gave me nightmares for weeks. That is exactly the energy I want to have right before our raptors are hatched. Wonderful.”

“I know, man. I was terrified of my baby cousins for so long afterwards. It’s funny now, but little baby Lance came up with a plan to ship even-smaller-baby Jorge to Alaska, and he would have gone through with it if his mama hadn’t caught him trying to sneak off to the post office with Jorge in his backpack.” Most of Lance’s face is covered by his mask, but Keith can still see the laughter in his eyes, like sun over water. 

“Lance.” Keith giggles, because that is the only thing to call the incredulous sound that escapes his lips. “What the literal fuck?” 

“I’ve always been very proactive. It’s one of my gifts.” Lance continues with an air of nonchalance. He shrugs his shoulders haughtily and raises his chin so he has to look even further down his masked nose to meet Keith’s eyes.

“I am extremely concerned right now.” Keith says. He looks exaggeratedly between the eggs, Lance, and the exit. “And I think I suddenly have somewhere else to be.” 

“This is the only place you need to be.” Lance is quick to point out. His ocean eyes are twinkling with merriment and Keith cannot look away. They are so bright, so damn blue it shouldn’t be possible. Yet, here they are, sucking the rationality out of Keith’s head with their endless depths of sunlit ocean water. 

A loud beep cuts through the room, startling Keith into looking away from Lance. He spares a moment to be annoyed at himself, but then quickly turns his attention to Lance who lets out a shriek. Keith doesn’t need to look at whatever alert the incubator’s computer has flashing across the screen. He can see why Lance starts pulling things out of the storage underneath the incubator. 

Egg Number Two has a small, reptilian limb sticking out of its mostly decimated shell. It’s covered in red goop, but it’s movements are strong and only slightly jerky. Keith notices how relaxed he had become only when his body goes tense all over again, the nerves reigniting all across his skin. 

“Okay, Keithy-Boy.” Lance says. He is calm, collected, and Keith remembers that he’s done this several times. It’s reassuring. “You know the drill.” 

The drill is really easy. Keith can do it, he knows he can, and the conviction of his thoughts spurs him into action. He steps around the incubator to stand closer to Two, and bends down so the egg is at eye level. At this angle, Keith can see into the egg. An eye, painted a thousand different colors and frightfully aware, blinks back at him. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers to it. “What the fuck.” 

The limb responds to his voice. _Because the baby raptor recognizes you_ , Keith reminds himself. _That’s why you talked to the eggs for weeks. So they would recognize you_. 

“Keep it up, cowboy.” Lance encourages Keith softly, reeling his mind back from the fields of amazement it had wandered off to. 

“Yeah, sure.” Keith says, clearing his throat. “Okay. Um, hi. I’m Keith and I’m going to be taking care of you. Haggar says I’m your alpha, but that’s just - it’s weird, and I don’t really like it. I’m going to be … someone you can trust. I won’t hurt you or yell at you, and I’ll do my best to make sure no one else does.” 

Keith feels ridiculous talking to a creature that probably doesn’t understand him. Probably. He looks over at Lance, whose face has gone flush with anticipation. Lance is already looking at him with wide eyes, and Keith frowns uncertainly up at him. Lance seems to snap out of a daze with a quick jerk of his head, and shoots Keith a thumbs up. 

“You’re doing good.” He tells him. “Look how she’s responding to you.” 

Before Keith can ask how the fuck Lance knows the baby raptor is a she, a small squawk sounds from the incubator. He nearly snaps his neck turning to look, but forgets the twinge of pain the second he sees the baby raptor struggling on their - her back. Lance explained, once, that most species on the island can be identified as female or male depending on their colors. He’s gone through the song and dance of identifying a newborns gender many, many times, so if Lance says she’s a she, then she is a she. 

And she is very small. When Keith reaches over to help her off the shard of shell she keeps tripping on, she fits into his two hands perfectly, her tail curling around half of his wrist. In the cradle of his hands, she presses her snout against the back of his fingers and coats them in something sticky. It’s disgusting, but Keith doesn’t mind. She’s a color that lies somewhere between green and gray, and has red fluids all over her body. Her eyes are clear, though, and they are boring into Keith’s.

“Oh.” Keith gasps. He looks at Lance helplessly, and Lance looks back at him. There is an intensity in Lance’s eyes that makes Keith want to squirm, but he’s holding an actual baby creature and refuses to do anything that could potentially make him drop her. “Lance, what to I do?” 

“You can hold her steady, please,” Lance says quickly, unfreezing and jumping into action. “I want to do a quick examination.” He wraps a stethoscope around his neck and grabs a tray Keith hadn’t even noticed and swiftly rolls it over to Keith. 

“Oh,” he breathes over Keith’s shoulder, peering down at the creature cupped gently in his palms. “She’s so precious. Ugh. Hold her belly up, please.” 

Keith carefully positions the raptor as Lance requested, extending his arms and stepping back so Lance could have more room to perform his duties. The raptor remains largely unbothered, presumably too tired from breaking out of an egg to do anything more than snuffling into Keith’s hands and spreading slimy fluids all over them.

She makes an offended noise when the cold metal of the stethoscope is pressed against her sternum. And ha! Keith knows where that is because he did his homework and learned as much about raptors as he could. The raptor flais her limbs about unhappily, but Lance starts cooing before she can become too riled up. She must recognize his voice too, because she settles easily. 

“I’m sorry.” Lance is saying quietly, too soft almost for Keith to bear. “I know it’s cold. But your breathing sounds clear and your heartbeat is strong. And between you and me,” Lance leans closer to the creature in Keith’s hands, close enough for Keith to feel his breath through the mask, “I know you’re Dromaeosauridae. Everyone is going to just call you raptor, but we know better. It’s rude, but they just don’t know. You’ll have to forgive them for being ignorant. The ones that really matter, like Keith and I, we know.” 

Keith actually had not known that. He’s not going to admit this to Lance, though. And even if he wanted to, his tongue is too tied up at having witnessed Lance’s easy tenderness firsthand. He’s heard of the legend of the island’s dinosaur whisperer, sure, and he knew that Lance was scary good with every animal on the island, but this is - well, this is something different. Something he should have expected but doubts he would have been prepared for either way. The raptor lays steady in Keith’s hands, blinking up at Lance with an intense focus. Lance looks back at her, unwavering. A loud scratching from the incubator diverts all of their attention.

Lance straightens up and wipes his gloved hands off on his coat, smearing red goop over the stark white material. “Alright. You keep her company while the other raptors break free. She’s too fresh to stick with needles just yet, but Hunk should be sending in some machinery so I can take some quick x-rays and other scans to make sure her insides are all good.” 

“Okay.” Keith says. He moves carefully to gently deposit the newborn in a tuft of hay at the bottom of the incubator, separated from the eggs. She growls in a soft, wobbly sound, but quiets when Keith runs a single finger down her spine. He repeats the motion once, twice, and then ceaselessly as he watches the other raptors very slowly break out of their eggs. 

Across the room, on the glass of the window between it and the lab, Keith catches his reflection. 

It’s bizarre, because he doesn’t look all that different than he did just a year ago. His skin is tanner, of course, because he spends hours upon hours out in the sunlight on a tropical freaking island. There is no way he could have escaped getting even a little burned. His shoulders are maybe a little broader, his hair definitely longer, but the rest of him is the same. His eyes are the same shade of violet-grey, his chin is still a little too sharp, he still has that scar tracing down his cheek. And yet, as Keith watches himself lightly pet one of the deadliest creatures known to mankind, he marvels at just how much everything has changed. How he has changed.

“Keith!” Lance shrieks suddenly, startling both him and the baby raptor under his hands. “Number Five is breaching!” 

Their first born baby raptor lets out a raspy bark, starling Hunk, who had just exited the sterilizing chamber, into screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so first, thank u for the comments. they really made my day. i was sick for a week after posting the first chapter, and they kept me going. this is for all of u. pls continue to fuel me with ur words. i hope u are enjoying this story :)))) tell me ur thoughts and what u think is going to end up happening .. if u want to lol.

**Author's Note:**

> ???? lets see if i keep up with this lol. pls leave some comments, they fuel me and are the only way i dont give up on something. but also, i really like this idea so ... i hope yall like it too. any feedback is greatly appreciated


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